Take a Shot

On that Sunday

    I counted off the days.

    I guess that's how I did it now.

    I used to be the kind of person that kept track of my existence by precious moments and memories I knew I would never be able to live through again. My life was once like the smooth waves of ocean that surrounded me or the sun that beat down upon, never taking a break of ceasing its warmth. Though now everything feels cold; the ocean is just an icy sea and the sun is just a heat ray ready to burn. My time is numbered in weeks and weekends and days spent in solitude, as I cut myself off from the world, bit by bit.

    On a Monday, I saw.

    I remember the first time my dark eyes fell upon the figure. Then, he was just another person. The younger me paid no attention to him, or anyone for the matter. My only concerns then were playing by my own rules. I never wanted to be pushed around, so my issue was getting rid of that matter. At such point in time, I was making room for me and me only so I could get me under control and figure out how I wanted to live. And I wanted to be independent and recognized; no more, no less. On a Monday, I saw, but my simple gaze grew into nothing more than sight-seeing.

    On a Tuesday, I met.

    Time had past since the last I had saw him. We both bumped into each other at an ice cream parlor. My anger started to rise when I almost mistaken him for someone else, his brother, in fact. I mean, they were alike in looks and I sure didn't fancy the idea of his brother at all; that guy was never the brightest color in a crayon box. I felt horrible, though! I wanted to make it up to the poor boy, so I convinced him to choose a flavor (a favorite of his) and sit down. From then on, I bought two cups of ice cream for us both. He insisted that he was going to pay me back, constantly apologizing for the fact of me having to buy something for him. On a Tuesday, it actually took a lot for him to keep his money and accept the creamy sweet.

    On a Wednesday, I gained.

    Since our bump on such a Tuesday, I decided I wanted to be around him some more. Matthew, his name that seemed light as air, always gave off such a comforting aura. We continued to be around each other and he didn't ever turn me down when I asked for the next time we could see each other again. That gave me a hope inside, a feeling so warm and free of someone that cared about me. Maybe he was too nice for that, I ended up always thinking back after a while. Though, I ignored the direction my mind was trying to guide me through. I sucked it up and (as silly as it might sound for a grown man) braved myself to ask Matthew if he really liked me and if there was a way for us to hang out more often on... Official terms set between us. Without a moment's hesitation, he smiled gracefully at me and took a tan hand that I held out for him. On a Wednesday, I got my own Matthew that I could always hold and hug and laugh with and share memories with that others couldn't because he was mine.

    On a Thursday, I knew.

    "Carlos," I recall the soft but strong voice of the one with shining blond strands and outstanding eyes. "Do you ever wonder?" I had taken a moment, trying to take in what he meant. "What exactly do you mean?" I had asked, sitting up from the couch. And he replied to me with an "Anything, Carlos. Do you ever wonder or question everything that's happened up to here? Or even stupid little things, like why some animals make the noises they make or why people have some universal way of slipping things on their feet with first both socks and then both shoes?" I remembered I had looked at him with a bewilderment in my eyes, taking a scratch at my head of messy and thick brown hair. And so I told him "Of course I question and wonder but usually it's not about those things." I received a quiet "Oh" and leaned over with open arms at Matthew. On a Thursday, I told Matthew that sometimes the things he said and thought were too adorable and well thought out, that he knew just where his train of thoughts would go.

    On a Friday, I loved.

    I was happiest. I felt so high and above that I never wanted to leave the clear day that sat on top of any rainy clouds. I finally admitted to myself that I was in love. Before, I constantly hit my head against an imaginary wall. I claimed that I would never fall for anyone, much less this sweetheart of a Canadian. He was too good for me anyway. But than again, he was mine, I realized. There must have been plenty of people that had gone to become close to him in endearing ways. And still, he chose to be close with me. It made me flustered, simply thinking about it. Once, I asked Matthew, "Why?" Why did he choose me above anything else. He told me why, that charming smile still on his handsome face. "Because," he started, shining eyes looking at my dark face, hardened from works of work and staying strong. "There's just something about you that's too captivating to not have put you first." There was just something about him that made me smile wide when he said those words, my eyes quickly lit up with joy and I brought my fists up with a "Yes!" motion, as though I suddenly scored a game-winning point. I got a bit embarrassed when he gave a laugh at my enthusiasm, my cheeks tinting slightly and crossing my arms with stubbornness. On a Friday, Matthew and I shared a lovely kiss and I figured out that there was no one that I could be happier with.

    On a Saturday, I cried.

    I cried of just everything. Of pain, and love, and sorrow, and happiness, and joy. I couldn't contain my emotions. I suppose that's what over-thinking does. You hide it and shelter it from the eyes of everyone until the compression of it all drives you to the point of being an overflowing pot. That someone left the stove on far too long and far too high, that someone forgot to help you cool and release the steam of smoke swirling inside. I just don't know how to explain it. I worried about such simple things sometimes. In the deep pit of my stomach, I had a bad feeling that refused to leave me be. As though soon I would lose and fall. Hard. On a Saturday, something kept a nagging feeling poking at me, that I demanded over and over to go.

    A Sunday came.

    Everything fell apart. Though, I had one lasting wish and desire. That maybe it was all a dream. Yeah, that's all it is, I thought with such certainty. Soon, I will just wake up and it will only be that nagging feeling again, and nothing would have happened! But, with each passing minute that I told myself to wake up was only another minute spent in denial. Being with him, each day was filled with that winning pride, a game I won. Now, it was no longer a game. Everything we said was a real conversation. "That something has faded," he cried to me. "Sweet things can only last so long. We both have to get back to caring for our own needs." I retorted back with, "But that's another reason we are together, we help each other!" Though, he continued with, "And Carlos, I care about you too much to let you ignore what you need." And so desperately I wanted to scream But what I need is you, mi amor.

    On that Sunday, I lost.

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Idea: No

*Which?:

Pairing: No

*Which?: CuCan